Placebo
by Coke Cam
Summary: Frankie Rizzoli could hardly believe his luck when Dr. Maura Isles started going out with him, but that fantasy quickly turns sour as he and his mother realize that, for all her intelligence, the doctor may have inadvertently substituted him for the other dark-haired Det. Rizzoli she truly loves and needs. Now it's up to them to help correct this chemistry experiment gone wrong.
1. Questions and Research

A/N: Back in August when rumors first circulated online that Frankie and Maura might date, I discussed the issue with speakers77 on Tumblr. Over time, we arrived at an interesting premise that would allow that scenario to emerge in a logical way and yet still lead to our preferred end game which is Rizzles. I held off writing it, thinking that plotline might just be a rumor, but lo and behold as of the season finale it came to pass. So here I am to make good on my promise.

**Placebo**

**1. **(Medicine) _med_ an inactive substance or other sham form of therapy administered to a patient usually to compare its effects with those of a real drug or treatment, but sometimes for the psychological benefit to the patient through his believing he is receiving treatment.

** 2. **Something of no intrinsic remedial value that is used to appease or reassure another.

**Chapter 1: Questions and Research**

Frankie Rizzoli finally had it all—everything he had ever wanted. Unfortunately, everything was turning out to be nothing like what he had dreamed it would be, and that dream was turning into a nightmare.

"Frankie, there you are. I have those results you wanted."

That crisp, cultured accent—one that had always given him a warm little glow in his stomach—now made his shoulders tense. Dr. Maura Isles was approaching his desk. As usual, every eye in the bullpen was on her but she only had eyes for him. He cringed.

In one hand she held a manila folder with what he assumed were the blood-spatter results from the double homicide he was working with Sgt. Korsak. In the other there was a juice bottle full of a suspiciously thick-looking green liquid. It might be kale; it might be spinach. Either way, it was coming towards him.

"Oh, hey Maura. Uh, Dr. Isles," he said quickly as he stood.

Maura smiled and the force of it nearly pushed him back into his chair. He'd always loved her smile, maybe because it showed up so rarely. He knew each variation. There was the shy smile when she got a compliment, the confused one when someone made a joke she didn't quite get, the suggestive one that seemed to say _wouldn't you like to know?_, and another warm, gentle one he hadn't figured out, but it seemed to pop out whenever his sister Jane was around.

This smile fell into a whole other category, better known as, "Sit still—I have a plan."

"You don't have to call me Dr. Isles, Frankie."

"Yeah, well..." He shrugged and glanced around to see if anyone was listening. Every detective in earshot was busily scribbling on something and pretending to be anything but interested. A few of them weren't even holding pens. "I figure we're at work so we should be professional."

"That's very admirable, but I think everyone would understand. We've known each other for years even before we started dating." Maura smiled again as she held out the plastic bottle. "It's a papaya-collard smoothie. I pulped it myself this morning—it has a full day's supply of antioxidants and beta-carotene," she added with a little nod.

"Pulp...wow, thank you." Frankie forced himself to take the bottle and smile. He thought about how his mother always bought the orange juice without pulp because he didn't like the way it felt when the bits got stuck in his teeth. Now he finally had a girlfriend of his own, one that wasn't a serial killer, and she had just made him a bottle of nothing but pulp. He wasn't sure what was weirder, that Maura Isles was going out with him or that she expected him to drink a bottle of pure evil and it wasn't even 10 o'clock.

"I know how busy your days are," Maura was saying. "Jane hardly ever has time for lunch anymore, so I thought it would help to have something healthy that you can take with you."

He wasn't sure what case his sister had landed, but Jane had been so busy he'd barely caught a glimpse of her since he'd started dating Maura. Stopping at Black Jack's with Sgt. Korsak for a burger and cheese fries and then learning more over lunch than most rookie detectives did in two years was one of the best parts of the day. He only wished Jane would come along with them, the way she used to.

"Thanks, Maura," he said gruffly. "That's really thoughtful."

That was easy to say—Maura Isles was the most thoughtful, generous, gentle person he knew. She was also brilliant, gorgeous, and sexy as hell, all of which she knew but it didn't seem to have any effect on how she treated other people. He'd had a kind of abstract crush on her ever since Jane had brought her by the house one day on their way to a crime scene, but it wasn't anything obvious. What would be the point? Maura could have anyone in the world so he didn't have a shot, but he couldn't help himself either. Not liking Maura was like...it was like not liking chocolate. Something had to be seriously wrong with you. Then somehow against all odds she had actually agreed to go out with him. He could hardly remember how it had happened, he had been so stunned—and now...now somehow it had turned into disaster.

"You're welcome. Oh, hello, Sgt. Korsak." Maura smiled at the older detective who had ambled over from his desk. Frankie felt a wave of relief that was nearly shameful. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he feel so relieved at having a chaperone, even one who was grinning at him like a Cheshire cat?

"Dr. Isles, good to see you. Everything all right in the morgue?"

"Fine, thank you, but I'm glad I caught you. Do you think there's a chance that Frankie could get off a little early today?"

Frankie furrowed his forehead in confusion. Had they made plans? Well, _they_ didn't really make plans—Maura made plans. She had lots and lots of plans. Most of them involved expensive restaurants, the ballet, the science museum and non-fat frozen yogurt.

The sound of a barely muffled snicker caught Frankie's ear and he searched out the source. Novacek, two desks away, was trying to keep a straight face as his partner sitting opposite mouthed the words _"she said 'get off'"_. Yeah, Novacek and Griffin—the Beavis and Butthead of BPD.

Frankie realized he was on his feet and starting to lurch towards them with what Jane called the Hockey Hunch (it wasn't his fault that he walked like he was wearing ice skates) when he heard Korsak say:

"I don't see why not. Frankie's been putting in a lot of overtime and you know we're not getting paid for that right now. I can start cross checking those results."

"Thank you, Sgt. Korsak. I was hoping he could help me with a little project?" Maura was beaming now, looking back and forth between them. Frankie was sure of two things: her project would involve using him as a guinea pig for something, and there was no way he could turn her down when she was looking so hopefully at him. It would be like kicking a kitten. "I need an extra set of hands," she added.

Frankie whipped his head around and glared at Griffin who was having a conspicuous coughing fit. "Hey!" he barked. "You got something to say?"

The bullpen went silent and Griffin eased back in his chair, both hands slightly raised. "Easy, man."

"No, you take it easy. You got something to say, you say it. Or better yet just keep your trap shut." Frankie knew he was talking more loudly than he should but he felt edgy and irrational, like he'd drunk two pots of coffee and had something to prove. Griffin's hands stayed where they were and his entire body language was conciliatory.

"Rizzoli. Hey, Rizzoli—Frankie!"

It took a moment for Frankie to realize Korsak was talking to him. He only came around when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. Of course, he was the Rizzoli here, not Jane, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he was the Other Rizzoli, the second choice. Without dropping his eyes, he let Korsak pull him away and gradually the bullpen returned to a low simmer.

"I think I should go." Maura's hands were twisting together in a way that seemed to match her stammering expression. "When you get free, just come by the morgue—all right?"

Frankie nodded, feeling a cold, uncomfortable wave of shame ripple in his stomach. "Yeah, sure, Maura. And thank you." He held up the folder of test results and that at least made her smile.

He watched as she walked away, him and every other guy in the room: how could he help himself when she wore a skirt that fit like that? Somehow though she was starting to remind him of a Christmas present, the kind that looked really enticing in a shiny wrapped box, but when you opened it up...it just wasn't what you thought it would be but everyone was looking at you and waiting for your reaction.

Suddenly Frankie felt a hand twisting in the collar of his suit jacket, the new one Maura had gotten for him. The hand belonged to Sgt. Korsak and he was being marched out the side exit just like a perp. He waited until they were in the stairwell before he shrugged loose.

"Save it," Korsak said shortly. "I heard 'em, I've got ears and so do you, so listen up."

"They shouldn't talk like that." Frankie knew he sounded stubborn and truculent, but that was how he felt. It was one thing to notice an attractive woman, but that didn't mean you should open your mouth, not like that He knew better, his Ma had raised him that way, and even if she hadn't then Janie would've beat it into him. That one more annoying thing about having a perfect big sister—she did everything right and she did it first, everything except settle down and get married. At least he had a girlfriend...but that was was turning out to be more of a problem than he'd ever anticipated.

Korsak gave him a smirking little look that said he'd heard plenty worse insults before. "You wanted to play in the big leagues, you got it. You made detective and you went for the most high class woman you could find, so people are gonna talk. Either learn to ignore it or step up your game. Nice jacket, by the way."

Frankie looked down at himself and stretched his arms out so that the sleeves rose gently above his wrists. It actually fit, unlike the other two suits he'd bought for himself when he passed the detective's exam. Hugh Boss? Hugo Boy? Something like that. Maura had surprised him with it last night. Somehow she knew his measurements and had it altered for him, so he knew he had to wear it. It was nice, incredibly nice, and it stood out like a Yankees jersey at Fenway. Making waves was the last thing he wanted to do in Homicide, especially for his clothes.

"Yeah," he said morosely. "Maura got it for me. Now everything else I have looks like crap."

"My second wife used to shop for me." Korsak shrugged. "She had good taste, so why not?"

Frankie felt himself smiling against his will. "That was 1976. Time to get some new pants, Vince."

Korsak chuckled in a way that made Frankie suspect there would be a payback later. "OK, look. I know technically Dr. Isles doesn't work for BPD so you can date, but she's still a co-worker. You've gotta figure out how you're going to handle things if you want things to work. What did you think it was going to be like when you had a case together and she had to come up to your desk?"

Frankie shrugged helplessly. "I really wasn't thinking. Hell, I don't even know how it happened."

Korsak's eyes narrowed and he made a half-lunge for Frankie, catching him by the sleeve. Frankie felt too depressed to fight and he let himself be pulled along into a vacant interrogation room. That's what this was going to be, Frankie realized: an interrogation.

Korsak closed the door behind him and sat down with one hip on the edge of the table, arms crossed over his considerable chest. "You've been dating for what, two weeks now? How do you not know how that happened? Dr. Isles isn't like a spare sock."

"A what?"

"A spare sock. You know, suddenly you've got one in your bedroom and you don't know how it got there. Are you a detective or not?"

Frankie felt himself begin to flush. "No. I mean, yes. Yes, I'm a detective and no, she's not a spare sock. I've liked her for years."

"You've got a funny way of showing it because I'll be honest, this hit me out of left field."

Weirdly enough, Frankie had to admit that he sort of felt the same. "I mean, yeah, I liked her—everyone does. I just never figured she'd go for me. I wouldn't have done it if it hadn't been for Tommy."

Korsak let out a wordless groan. "Why am I not surprised?"

Frankie shook his head and tried to pull the memories together. "You remember the night I caught him drinking again and we got into that fight? He busted my lip and Maura stitched me up."

"You both should've been sent to the penalty box," Korsak said sourly.

"Probably," Frankie sighed. "But yeah, like when I played hockey, I didn't want to let on how much it hurt, especially not with people watching. I lied to Maura and said it didn't hurt, but you try getting stitches in your lip without anesthetic. So later on, once we wrapped up the case, I got some painkillers and they really helped, but...but I kinda had a reaction."

"What, like hives?"

_If only,_ he thought. "I just felt weird but really good, like I could do anything. I was leaving Jane's when I ran into Maura and she looked great, of course, and I..I don't know," he said helplessly. "It was like I was watching myself from outside my body. I just _kissed_ her. I don't know what the hell got into me, but she didn't pull away or anything so I just went home and crashed for about 12 hours. When I woke up I felt all fuzzy and weird, so when she called and asked if I'd eaten yet, I thought maybe we were doing something at her place with the family. But when I got there it was just us, and then one brunch and a shopping trip later, I realized she thought we were dating."

Korsak was looking at him with a half-shocked, half-resigned expression. "Well," he said finally, "that would explain a lot."

"Good, maybe you can explain it to me."

Korsak chuckled, shaking his head. "You had a little crush—we all do, no big deal. It's impossible not to like Dr. Isles. You two had a close call together with the bomb scare, and then she takes care of you and you get high as a kite on pain meds, so your guard's down and you show your cards. You just weren't expecting her to play back."

"Well, uh..." Frankie checked his gut and it told him to trust Korsak. "No one's exactly been playing. Since you mentioned it."

Korsak's eyebrows shot up. "Taking things slow?"

"Yeah, and that's fine," Frankie said hastily. "I don't push—I mean, sure, I kissed her, but nothing more. She just wants to run errands and go to things, so I go with her and we always end up somewhere new to eat and...and that's cool. I guess."

His voice was trailing off as he thought about last night's dinner and the way Maura had burbled on about locally sourced organic something-or-other and how Jane hadn't wanted to come there to eat but when Maura finally talked her into it they'd had such a good time and now she was so glad she could share it with him too. He'd been so confused by the menu that he nearly texted Jane to ask what she'd ordered, and then he'd thought maybe they should just invite Jane along since she always knew how to tease Maura and get her to try new things. Things like beer. Beer was good. He could use one now, maybe two.

"So let me get this straight." Korsak drawled his words in a way that suggested he wasn't really confused at all. "You're like her escort but without the, um, the 'after party'?"

Frankie felt his face go bright red and his chest swelled to fire back a defensive remark; then he simply exhaled. It was true. "Oh my God," he groaned. "What is _wrong_ with me? She's so nice and pretty and she's driving me crazy. I don't feel like I can breathe around her, and not like in a good way."

Korsak was nodding sympathetically which helped, at least a little. "So you ordered steak, they brought you filet mignon, and you tried it and you don't like it."

"Exactly," Frankie sighed. "But you don't just send Maura Isles back to the kitchen. I mean, Jane would kill me."

Korsak's face went curiously blank beneath his goatee. "What does Jane have to do with this?"

"Y'know, they're BFFs and everything. You know how protective she gets."

Korsak shifted to stand, hands in pockets. He was looking down as he said, "Your sister would do anything for someone she loved."

"Her and Ma both," Frankie agreed. "Maura's like family. I guess we all want her to be a part of us and that made me think..."

He broke off as the door to the interrogation room opened suddenly and a patrol officer peered in. As soon as he recognized the blonde young woman, he felt his gut begin to relax.

"Oh, I'm sorry—I didn't know anyone was in here." Charlotte Hanson gave them an apologetic smile and began to close the door.

"Actually, I think we're done." Korsak stood, giving Frankie a significant look, eyebrows raised. "I think you know what you need to do."

"Yeah, boss." Frankie tried to smile and pull himself up as Korsak left. "What's up, Charlie?" As soon as he said it, Frankie nearly bit his tongue. He'd had to be careful about using slang around Maura or they'd wind up in an hour long discussion of why something didn't make sense and what the more logical etymo-something or other expression would be. And by discussion, he meant sitting and watching that beautiful mouth say things he didn't remotely understand and just nodding along.

"Actually..." She hesitated a moment, glancing over her shoulder out into the hall. "I was hoping I'd run into you. Do you have a second?"

"Sure—everything OK?"

"Great!" She stepped into the interrogation room with him, letting the door close. "The guys on my shift, we have a pool and we went in for Sox tickets at the start of the season. Every week we draw to see who gets a pair." Charlie pulled the printed slips out of her back pocket, although how she got anything to fit in there...

_ No, no, no,_ Frankie thought desperately, _don't look! She's not your girlfriend, Maura is, think about Maura._

"So I won this week," Charlie was saying, "and I always go with my partner but his wife just had the baby so..." She looked up hopefully at him with a wistful half-smile.

But instead of saying, _Hell yes, let me get my glove, it's in the trunk, _Frankie blurted, "Do you want kids?" Before he could clap his hand over his mouth and mumble an apology, Charlie was digging her cell phone out and eagerly thumbing through the photos.

"Bunches, yeah," she said happily. "See, these are my nephews, Cormac and Declan, and my niece, Dylan. That's my partner with the new baby—I got to hold her last night and we're all going back today before the game. Do you...?"

"Yeah," Frankie said quietly. "I love kids."

"You could come along. I mean, if you want to, and," she was starting to stumble over herself now, "we usually just grab dinner at the park but you get a coupon on the tickets for something. This week, it's...oh, it's ice cream." Her mouth quirked to one side as she stared down at the tickets.

Frankie's mouth watered involuntarily. Real ice cream, Rocky Road with little M&Ms on top, not the non-dairy, no sugar added stuff that Maura had pulled out of the freezer on Sunday when she told him she'd picked up dessert. He'd thought the carton would've tasted better.

"I could eat ice cream for dinner every night," Frankie confessed. "But then I wouldn't fit in my uniform. I mean my suit—I keep forgetting I'm out of uniform."

"I think you'd look great out of...your suit. _It's_ great, your suit." Charlie's face was turning pink, and Frankie had never seen anything so adorable.

_No, no, she can't look adorable...you're not supposed to notice her, _he thought frantically. _You're dating the hottest woman in Boston, Christ how is this even __**happening**__?_

Suddenly Frankie felt a very familiar urge, the desire to pull Charlie into his arms and kiss her, just as he'd done when he ran into Maura outside Jane's apartment, but this time the desire had nothing to do with painkillers or split lips.

_You know what you need to do._

"Charlie, what time are your friends leaving for the hospital?"

"Not till after our shift ends, about 3." She brightened. "Do you want to come with us?"

"Yeah—yeah, I do." Frankie already had one hand on the door, holding it back for her. "And then the game, and ice cream, and, hell, two ice creams. But there's something I've gotta do first."

Korsak was right—he knew what he had to do, but exactly how did you break up with Dr. Maura Isles? He had until 3 o'clock to figure it out.


	2. Hypothesis

Angela Rizzoli glanced up from unloading the dishwasher at the Division One cafe to confirm that the line along the serving bar was still empty. She continued stacking dishes and sorting silverware, but checked back every half-minute. After her conversation with Jane last night, she knew the chances of her daughter showing up were slim, but it was every mother's prerogative to hold out hope against impossible odds.

After nearly ten days without seeing so much as a single hair on Jane's head (and that hair was admittedly hard to miss), Angela had decided it was also her prerogative to show up unannounced at her daughter's apartment and check on her. She still couldn't decide what had been more startling—how tired and depressed Jane had looked when she opened the door or the fact that she hadn't even grumbled about mothers who didn't call ahead.

"Hey," Jane had said listlessly as she shuffled back towards the kitchen. Angela closed the door and hung up her own coat. Whatever this was would take a while to unravel and she needed to get comfortable.

"I didn't see you around this week," she said casually, "so I thought you must be busy, and when you're busy you don't eat. I made a lasagna last night." She set the white ceramic baking dish down on the counter and pulled back one corner of the tin foil with an enticing crinkle.

Jane wrinkled her nose but couldn't stop herself from looking longingly at the melted cheese and bits of beef sausage mixed together between layers of thick noodles. "I already ate."

Angela looked at the half-empty jar of peanut butter sitting by the sink with a spoon protruding. "That doesn't count," she said firmly. "I'll make you a plate."

"I'm not hungry," Jane mumbled again, but she didn't try to stop her mother from scooping out a generous helping and heating it in the microwave. Instead, she shifted her weight to one hip and rested her elbows on the counter while staring despondently as the plate went round and round in the microwave.

"What's going on, baby?" Angela asked gently. She was standing close enough to put a hand on Jane's shoulder but she had finally learned better than to try for an uninvited hug. "Are you still upset about Charles?" (Even after all these years, she couldn't bring herself to call him by that ridiculous nickname.)

Jane shook her head, then shrugged. "I just feel stupid. I knew it wasn't a good idea, but I thought...I dunno, I just thought maybe if I tried harder."

Angela had always been proud of her children, but Jane made it so easy with her goals and commitment. For years she had thought that the reason Jane wasn't interested in settling down was because she had worked so hard to prove herself at her job and she was so good at it that there just wasn't room in her heart for anything else. Maura had proved everyone wrong on that account when she walked into the precinct and Jane had been instantly and adorably overwhelmed to discover that the beautiful, sophisticated doctor wanted to be friends. She still worked overtime and worried too much, but Maura fit perfectly in her life, almost like they were meant to be.

Angela had thought that maybe Jane would be able to take what she had learned from having such a good best friend and be able to balance work with a relationship, but anyone could see that Charles didn't want her to balance things. He talked a good line, but in the end he wanted Jane to give up not just what she did, but who she was. Angela knew that would never work, but sometimes Jane had to find things out for herself.

Angela hadn't said anything out loud, even she knew better than that, but she was starting to wonder if Jane maybe needed someone more like Maura who could fit into the life she already had instead of wanting her to change. She didn't want Jane to settle for just anyone—it had to be the _right_ one, even if that person not only acted like Maura but actually was, well, maybe a woman. Sure, she was old-fashioned but she didn't mind, not so long as Jane was happy. True, it would be a little easier to have those grandbabies the traditional way, but they could do amazing things with science these days. She and Maura had watched a show about it just last week. Maybe Maura could help with that too—she probably knew the top doctor in the field.

"Nobody tries harder than you." Angela risked brushing a quick kiss on top of Jane's head. "I know it still hurt a lot even though it was really obvious that things weren't going to work out. I mean, look at your father," she said. "It doesn't get more obvious than that, but it still hurt."

The microwave bell went off and Angela brought the plate over, carefully avoiding the rising steam. She pressed a fork into Jane's hand and picked up one of her own to lead by example. It was really, really good lasagna. She had craved it every day she was pregnant with Frankie, which reminded her...

"I know you were even more scared when you thought you were, y'know, pregnant. I talk a lot about wanting more grandbabies, and I do, but not with someone who doesn't care about you the way you deserve. I want you to be as excited about it as I'll be."

Jane wiped at the back of her nose with one hand and shuffled around to slump over the breakfast bar. She picked idly at the lasagna and took a tentative bite, then another. "I guess Maura told you about the false alarm, huh?"

"We talk a lot about you. You're her best friend and she doesn't have many friends."

"Any friends," Jane corrected.

"Well, she has good taste. And she likes my lasagna, so you could take another bite, it wouldn't kill you."

"Yeah, she was great," Jane said softly. "She even drove when she took me back to the lab to do another pregnancy test so I wouldn't have to wait on my doctor." Her head tilted slightly as she carved out a bite with a marble-sized hunk of ground beef. "She told me that if I really was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby that she'd help and we could all do it together, like we were gonna with TJ before Lydia came back for him. I thought she was just saying it to distract me because I was freaking out, but then I remembered she can't lie."

Angela wished that she'd been able to reach Maura before she came over. No one cheered Jane up the way her best friend could, and what was so amazing about it was that Maura wasn't even trying. There was just something about her bright, quirky, inquisitive nature that brought out a gentle, protective side of Jane that she usually saved for victims and abandoned puppies. If anyone could convince Jane to get dressed and leave the house, even just for a quick bite to eat, it would be Maura, but she'd already had plans for the evening with Frankie.

"She made a joke, y'know." Jane was chewing now, actually chewing and swallowing, and Angela swore she could see color coming back into her cheeks. "She told me that we'd just keep taking the test until it came back negative, and then it did. She kinda looked a little disappointed actually. I told her that good scientists aren't supposed to know the answer they want to see so she made up some excuse with a lot of big words, but she knew I caught her."

"She's quite a catch," Angela agreed.

Jane's hand stiffened and her eyes grow unfocused. "Yeah," she said." Her fork went down to the edge of the plate with a hard clink. "Frankie's a lucky guy."

Angela wasn't sure if she would call it good fortune or dumb luck. She loved all her kids, she truly did, and Frankie had been the easiest—so sweet and no trouble at all, not compared to Jane and oh Lord, no need to mention Tommy. But she had to squint a little to try to see why Maura would think of him as anything more than a brother.

"How do you feel about that?" she asked. "Having Maura in the family?"

Jane shrugged again as she poked listlessly now at the lasagna. "Frankie's a good guy, he'll treat her right, and Maura's just...y'know, Maura. She's great. She's really, really great. We always talked about what it would be like, so maybe it can work out. She's really, really great."

Angela's shock at seeing her second best lasagna ignored was balanced against her dismay at Jane's reaction, all tight jaw and a horribly fake, strained smile. She'd been happy of course, practically overjoyed, when Maura had let her know that Frankie would be stopping by the house and that they were going out to dinner. She had contained herself, but given a gleeful thumbs up as Frankie arrived with flowers, looking a little dazed. She certainly didn't have any complaints at all though. Maura was just the kind of girl she wanted her sons to bring home, although admittedly she was pretty out of their league.

She wasn't trying to be overprotective, no matter what Jane accused her of. It really had been a coincidence that she was still up watching a collectible dolls showcase on the shopping network when they came home again. Maura had invited Frankie in for coffee and they'd all had a cup while Maura gushed about the speaker at the foundation's fundraising dinner. Frankie had sat silently, looking a little baffled. When he mentioned that he had an early morning and needed to go, Maura had insisted on checking his cut lip and offered him a mild painkiller which he hastily turned down. Angela didn't have any complaints, she had always wanted a doctor in the family, but intelligent, refined Maura with sensible, blue collar Frankie? She still didn't quite get it—maybe she needed to see them interacting more. That was a thought...

"I want us all to have dinner, maybe this Friday," Angela announced. "We haven't been able to do anything sine your father was here, and the sooner we forget about that the better. I can make gnocchi," she coaxed.

Jane wavered at the mention of her childhood favorite but then shook her head. "Probably can't. I've got some stuff going on," she said vaguely, "and y'know we should give them some space, let them figure things out without everyone staring at them."

"That's silly, it's family. And besides, we've got good news to celebrate. Tommy got his two week chip and Lydia says when he gets to one month sober then he can come home. When I dropped off TJ this morning she said she'd be willing to come over now so long as it's everyone together."

Jane mustered up a smile that actually reached her eyes this time. "That's great, Ma. You should do it, but we've got this case and with Frost still on vacation things are tight. You and Cavanaugh do it though, get all the couples together. It'd just be awkward to have me around."

"No," Angela protested, "why'd you say that? Because you just broke up? That's silly, Janie. Maura misses you, she said so. She loves you, you know that."

Something hitched in that horribly fake smile. "Yeah, and I love her, Ma. Her and Frankie, they don't need a third wheel right now and they might feel like they can't act happy around me yet. She didn't get underfoot when Cas...he was here, so I'm gonna do the same while she tries this out."

Jane was standing at the sink with her back turned while she meticulously wrapped up the lasagna and rinsed her dish which gave Angela time to pull her composure together.

"You think Frankie is like...like an experiment? Honey, she's not the kind of woman to string a guy on."

"No," Jane mumbled over the running water. "She'd never hurt anyone in her life, but you know she can't turn off that science brain. First Tommy..." A chink as she tossed the fork into the silverware basket. "...now Frankie..." A clatter as the plate slotted into the dish drainer. "I'm hoping this works out or Pop's next."

Before Angela could decide whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity of the image, a thought surfaced, sudden and sharp.

_ No, wouldn't Jane be next?_

If Maura belonged with them and the boys weren't a good fit, well, why shouldn't she consider Jane? They were best friends, the way you should be with the one you loved. They worked together, they laughed and fought and made up just like any other couple. They practically lived at each other's houses as it was. They supported and protected each other, each in their own way, and they were good for each other too, which was more than Angela could say for most couples. And more than once Angela would swear she'd caught Jane looking at Maura with a kind of tender wistfulness that had never made sense before...not until now.

It was so obvious that she had completely missed it; that was the only explanation. It would take a little finagling to fix the situation, but she had a hunch that Frankie would be relieved to go back to baseball, beer and brats after a few weeks of trying to keep up with Dr. Isles. As for Maura, the scientist in her wouldn't mind admitting she'd had the wrong Rizzoli so long as she finally got the right one. And Jane...Jane would finally be loved the way she deserved, Angela decided firmly. There was a word for what the girls had done, when you tried one thing and it worked for a little while because it looked like the right thing, but in the end your body knew what you really needed. A placebo, that was it.

It would be so easy, Angela thought with growing hope. Their lives could simply continue as if nothing changed, except now Jane and Maura would have each other, and they could stop this ridiculous game of trying to see if anyone else could possibly be a better fit than the perfection they already had.

"I'm sorry, Ma." Jane was standing with one hand on the refrigerator, letting all the cold air pour out just like she had ever since she was tall enough to reach the handle. Her shoulders were still slumped and her eyes were dull, but at least that awful fake smile was gone. "I shouldn't have said that about Pop—I'm sorry."

"It's OK, baby." But Angela didn't let the opportunity slip by and she hurried to hug her daughter before the shields came back up. "Don't worry, everything's gonna be fine. I've got an idea."

"Great," Jane groaned, but she held the hug a moment longer. "Are you gonna do an experiment on me now? Make me date everyone in Boston until one works?"

No, Angela thought. Not everyone.

Just the right one.

The sound of the bell on the café counter ringing out with a single piercing note pulled Angela out of her reflection. She dried her hands quickly and bustled out of the back kitchen to find exactly the person she had been hoping to see today—Dr. Maura Isles.

Her future daughter-in-law, one way or the other.


	3. Experiment

Maura Isles went slightly up on tiptoes as she peered over the café bar to watch as Angela made her order.

"Thank you, that's perfect. Oh, and please no..."

"No wooden coffee stirrer," Angela recited, all too familiar with the special order. "There you go, sweetie."

Maura took the cup in both hands, testing the warmth. She smiled gratefully as she took the first sip. "Thank you again. I appreciate your keeping the organic beans behind the counter for me. I know no one else wants to order them."

Angela waved her off with one hand as she opened the clasp on her calfskin wallet. "No, you don't owe me anything—it's just hot water, you brought the coffee yourself." She angled her way around the counter, taking Maura by the elbow. "It's slow right now—why don't we sit down and catch up?"

Maura allowed herself to be shuttled over to the side table where she usually had breakfast with Jane, although her friend had been busy with schedule conflicts for the last two weeks. Maura had come on her own a few times, but eating scrambled egg whites and wheat toast on her own wasn't very much fun. Frankie had joined her once, but he ate all of his bunny pancakes and didn't know he was supposed to save the ears for her.

"So," Angela said in a confiding tone, "how is everything?"

Maura blinked uncertainly. "Well, there are thunderstorms predicted for tomorrow, but the weather for this afternoon is..."

"I mean with you and Frankie. I know he's my son, but you can be honest. I just want you both to be happy."

Maura straightened in her seat, understanding now. Of course, Angela would be most interested in anything affecting her children. It was unfamiliar for her to...what had Jane called it, girl chat? No, girl talk, that was the expression. Still, she enjoyed Angela's company and her open, emotional nature and their late night talks. Maura didn't always understand her, but it was a fascinating experience.

"Well," she said, "you can be very proud of your son. Anyone would be lucky to date him."

"Mmm hmm...so what was it that made you notice him?" Angela asked. "Was it making detective finally? I admit, I like a man in uniform, but he looked so handsome in his undercover gear."

Maura knew what she meant by gear (she had learned not to refer to disguises as "outfits" after making that mistake a few times with Jane), but she wasn't quite following Angela. "Well, Jane first introduced us several years ago actually."

"I mean notice him as more than a friend."

Maura tried to recall exactly how Frankie had first entered her mind as more than simply Jane's little brother. It had been such a long and confusing year with her birth family, and the one stable constant she had was the time she spent with the Rizzolis. It had been Jane's suggestion for Frankie to keep his bike at her house where she had plenty of room in the garage. He could keep his tools there and they worked on it at night in the courtyard when the weather was nice. That was what had led to the warm, familiar rituals that helped her get through this last year.

"His motorcycle," Maura said. Angela nodded and she felt relieved—at least she had gotten this answer right. For some reason that mattered tremendously. She had two mothers already, but this unofficial third one seemed to matter most of all.

"Jane's father had a motorcycle." Angela rolled her eyes but was smiling. "Well, at least I got some really great kids out of it."

"Three wonderful children," Maura said sincerely which made Angela laugh.

"I don't know if I'd say three."

"Tommy has a lot of potential," Maura insisted. "In some ways, he's even more remarkable because of what he's overcome. It's not uncommon for recovering alcoholics to have relapses in the early stages, but he's a dedicated father and he's working hard to build a career so he can provide for his family."

Angela was looking at her in that tolerant way that Jane did sometimes. Maura fell silent, knowing she must have missed something very obvious, at least obvious to a normal human being.

"I meant that I have _four_ children," Angela said quietly, "and I love each of them very, very much."

Maura quickly did the math and the conclusion she reached left her needing to swallow hard before she was able to say "Thank you" without sounding like she was going to cry.

"So motorcycles, huh?"

Maura thought back to those nights in the courtyard, chatting and laughing, and how Jane would join them and sit in one of the patio chairs with those impossibly long legs propped up on the half-wall. She always made sure to keep a six pack of Jane's favorite beer on hand and several kinds of chips. She had even tried slipping some baked Wheat Thins onto the tray one week. They had gone untouched but that hardly mattered. They had all been together, happy and safe, and then when Frankie left for the night she and Jane would order dinner and just talk. It didn't have to be about anything special so long as they were together. That was what family was supposed to be like—finally she understood and she ached for it to be a permanent arrangement.

Maura smiled and put one hand on Angela's arm, the way that Jane did when she wanted Maura to calm down and pay attention. Jane was so much smarter than she was about people and she was grateful for everything she had learned from her friend. She just wished Jane was here now.

"Ever since I learned I was adopted, I've imagined what it would be like to meet my birth parents." She gave a wan little smile as Angela nodded sympathetically. "That didn't exactly turn out like I'd hoped, but Jane helped me understand that family can be who we choose. When her father came back to visit, as unpleasant as it was, I realized how much she considered me a part of the family, and that you felt the same way."

"We do, sweetie, we do." Angela was clasping her hand now and squeezing it in a way that made Maura's heart pulse in response. This was what it felt like to be accepted and loved. All her life she had wondered and here it was right in front of her. Each of the Rizzolis loved her, just in different ways.

"So that helped you find your chemistry with Frankie?"

Maura frowned. "Recent studies have shown that humans are less susceptible to pheromones than previously thought, especially compared to other mammals given how unevolved our olfactory system is."

The way Angela looked back blankly told Maura that, yet again, she had completely missed the ship. Boat. Something like that.

"Did they ever make you take a chemistry class in medical school?" Angela probed.

"Several!" Maura had enjoyed all her classes, but biochemistry had been a rewarding challenge. "My midterm results set the curve for the entire second year cohort."

"So you know what chemistry _is_," Angela drawled, "but when did you start to feel it with Frankie?"

Maura still felt puzzled—she knew the expression, she'd heard it used before, but it had never quite made sense. She understood having a biological connection with someone and she enjoyed exploring that with a partner, although there hadn't been anyone lately she felt strongly enough about to pursue. She was always encouraging Jane to be less repressed, not that she'd made much headway. Jane would just make a joke or shrug her off and make excuses for why she couldn't go out with anyone and then sulk a little.

"Y'know, _chemistry. _That little thrill you get when they come in a room or how your pulse jumps when they brush your elbow."

"I'm not certain that really qualifies as a chemical reaction," Maura said dubiously. Or had the professor covered that the one day she had to miss class for the regional equestrian finals?

"Maura, how do you feel now when you look at Frankie?" Angela's expression was hopeful but Maura wasn't certain how she was supposed to answer. "Just a little excited when he walks over to you maybe?"

"Well," she said, "it's too soon to draw a conclusion, but everything is following appropriate protocol."

Angela's eyebrows had raised and her voice rasped in surprise. "You have an amazing way of making that sound so...unromantic."  
Maura cocked her head curiously. "I've often thought that people who make choices based on their hormonal responses alone are in danger of making serious mistakes simply because their oxytocin levels are imbalanced."

"All right, all right." Angela seemed to be looking off into the distance in great concentration.. "I know! Think about when you first met Jane. You two had something special right away. Even though you didn't have much in common, you just clicked. There was an instant connection between you."

That was true, Maura considered, even though Jane had been so grouchy and tired when they met for the first time that morning in line at the café. Maura had just been trying to be nice by offering to pay for her breakfast. It really wasn't her fault that she'd logically concluded Jane was a prostitute and recommended that she get more vitamin D. They still laughed about that and sometimes Maura would buy a carton of yogurt and slip it onto Jane's tray when she wasn't looking. Jane would try to hide a smile and glower at her and call her _sistah_ in that Southie accent, which made Maura so happy she could hardly bear it. _Sister_. She felt certain somehow that Jane was much more than that to her, but it was the closest word she had for what she felt.

"I think I understand," Maura said. "I'm not certain exactly what you would call it, but there was something about Jane that I connected with as soon as we met. It was like...like putting on a pair of Vivienne Westwood stiletto sandals and realizing how comfortable they actually are despite how they look."

"Hmmm." Angela nodded, eyes narrowed in thought. "So Jane is like the very special something you have that's not like anything else and it makes you feel beautiful and special and comfortable even though you wouldn't think it would work at first."

Now that Angela put it that way, yes, Maura realized. That was it exactly.

"I don't meant to be prying," Angela said, sitting back. "I'm sorry, I just care about my kids. I try to talk to Janie about how she's doing and she tells me she's OK, but I'm not sure. I was trying to get everyone together for dinner this week and she says she can't make it, but I think she's still feeling down about the breakup and everything. I can't say anything, I'm her mother, but it's a shame that she was finally ready to settle down and then it didn't work out. I always said it would take someone really special to make my girl want to stay home on a Friday night."

"Oh...I—really?" Maura tried to reconcile that with the Jane she knew who was always so quick to suggest they have a quiet night in together.

Angela spotted two customers approaching and signaled that she would be right with them. "But before I forget..." She searched through her apron pocket and pulled out a section of newspaper folded back to the daily crossword. "I'm having a little trouble here—what's a seven letter word for a harmless, ineffective substitute? Starts with P."

Maura counted off on her fingers. "Placebo," she said brightly. Finally, a question she could answer. "It's a substitute used in drug trials to verify efficacy within a control group."

Angela pursed her lips, counting off as she filled in the letters. "So it's like when you try something that looks like what you need, but it's not really the cure?"

"Precisely. It can sometimes produce a false positive because subjects feel better for a time because they believe they've received an effective solution."

"Funny how your brain can trick you when you really want to see something," Angela sighed. "Thanks, sweetie."

Maura tried to continue but Angela was already bustling away. She made a note that she would need to explain placebos a little further when they had longer to talk. Yes, they could be effective for weeding out false positives, but they should only be used alongside the variable you were actually testing. But how could she explain that to someone who didn't have any background in test protocol design?

Well, Maura thought, even though she hadn't actually dated Tommy Rizzoli, he could be a considered a placebo when compared to his brother Frankie if...

She stopped, feeling an inexplicable small jolt of aversion. Brothers—she'd always thought of them as brothers, by extension through Jane, and the transition in how she looked at Frankie hadn't been happening as quickly as she'd thought it would. But, her mind calmly informed her, if she had the same reaction to the variable, Frankie, as she did to the placebo, Tommy, then that was a conclusion in itself.

No, she shook her head, this wasn't a good protocol. Jane had always been there with her whenever they interacted and it was possible Jane was affecting the environment in some way. She needed to see Frankie alone, but...but it was so nice when Jane was there. She grew slightly panicked thinking about what it would be like for Jane simply _not_ to be there in her life.

Maura felt her head very gradually beginning to grow lighter and lighter. It had all seemed so logical just two weeks ago, a perfectly sensible step, but now everything was so confusing. She looked up at the rush of air beside her, the sudden warmth and familiar, comforting scent.

"Are you OK?" Jane was standing beside her table and looking down at her in concern. "I just got Ma's text. You...well, you look all right." Her tone was confused now and slightly suspicious.

No, Maura thought faintly, she wasn't all right at all. Her heart rate had elevated just at the sound of Jane's voice and everything else in the room was fading away.

"Hey Maura, glad I caught you." Frankie rounded the corner into the café and pulled up short at the sight of the women. "Uh, wow. Hey Jane."

"Hey," Jane said shortly.

Maura had a feeling, a lot like the one she had during that biochemistry final, that something was going on that she wasn't prepared for.

"I guess I'll leave you two," Jane said, dropping her eyes. "I'm sure you've got stuff to talk about. I'll just go kill Ma and see you later."

"Actually...Jane, maybe you should stay." Frankie swallowed hard as he squared his shoulders. He didn't quite cut the figure Jane did, Maura thought abstractly, but that was hardly his fault. Jane had flawless posture and amazing bone structure. She was simply breathtaking and it must have been hard growing up with her by comparison. Just looking at Jane was...it was...

Something odd was happening, Maura realized. She could hear Frankie talking and trying to say something to Jane, but she couldn't quite follow it. She slipped off her stool and tried to stand between them but her legs felt unusually weak. Her head was growing light and the room was warm and starting to spin. It felt like the one and only time she had been sedated at the dentist, as if something was struggling to surface from deep within, bubbling up through her mind and pushing everything else aside.

"Yeah, maybe later," Jane said. She wasn't even looking at her brother as she tried to edge away. "Just call me, OK?"

"I've been trying," he insisted, "but you don't call back. This is important and I think you can help."

Maura looked unsteadily between the two, and she reached one hand out to steady herself against the table. "Jane?" she whispered.

"I had to turn off my...hey, are you OK, Maur? You look kinda pale."

That was her Jane now, her voice changing instantly to the tone Maura knew best—worried, earnest and tender. Maura stared up into those dark brown eyes just as she felt her balance begin to tip. Instantly Jane's arm was around her and she felt a small shock run through her and lodge in the pit of her stomach, then shoot upwards to her heart.

_Chemistry..._

"Maura? Maura!"

Jane's voice was coming from the end of a tunnel, but when it reached her it set off two more small incendiary devices in her heart. Her name—someone was calling her name. No one had ever said her name that way before, like they would die without her.

Frankie had moved to help too but there was no need. Her head fell against Jane's shoulder, cushioned softly as her knees gave way and she was falling, caught in Jane's arms, falling, gently easing down, drowning in those eyes, but now she knew.

This was what falling felt like, but she should have known. She had fallen years ago.

For a genius, Maura thought faintly as the room slipped away, she could be so dumb sometimes.


	4. Analysis

A/N: Again and as always, very deep, heartfelt appreciation to siDEADde for taking time out of a very busy schedule to beta repeatedly. And even laugh at the same stupid jokes. Repeatedly.

* * *

"Stop hitting me!" Frankie barked. He had managed to fend Jane off the last two times, but she had already landed several good pops on his right shoulder.

"Fine." Jane crossed her arms and glared at him. He was so distracted by the fact that she actually did what he asked that he didn't notice his mother come up behind him until he felt a smack across the back of the head.

"Ow!" he protested. "What the hell was that for?"  
Angela struggled for a retort and finally settled on, "It's for being a boy."

"That's not my fault, and...and there's nothing wrong with that." Frankie had an uneasy feeling that if he gave the women in the family long enough that they would come up with something truly valid. "If you wanna kick me out, fine, I'll go, but not until I know what's wrong with Maura."

"You tell me," Jane demanded. Her face had been alternating between bright red and deathly white ever since they had driven back to Maura's house from the precinct. Angela had slipped into her maternal role and bundled Maura upstairs to get her settled while Jane had stood in stubborn silence in the kitchen, refusing to even look at Frankie. When Angela returned and said Maura was resting comfortably, it was as if a switch had flipped and Jane came roaring back to life.

"You tell me," she repeated. "My best friend starts dating you and suddenly she keels over in the middle of the precinct. What the hell are you doing to her? Are you taking her out to City Diner—is that your idea of a date? She's too polite to tell you how disgusting that is."

"No, I never..."

"They have an entire dinner platter called the Emergency Room for Chrissakes! She's probably not eating at all."

"She ate fine," Frankie insisted. "We got Vietnamese last night and she ordered me something with bean curd that tasted like dirt, and..."

"Last night?" Jane's expression was shocked and disdainful. "Thursday night is supposed to be pizza night, and she doesn't like thick crust you can give up on that one. Is she sleeping? Are you keeping her up? She needs eight hours, Frankie, eight solid hours every night."

"Whoa. Whoa. _Whoa!"_ Frankie backed himself against the refrigerator, if only to protect his back from another sneak attack. "Since you asked, she picks where we eat, so believe me _I'm_ the victim here."

Jane hit him again, this time on the left shoulder.

"Ow, geez, and not that it's your business, but she hasn't even been to my apartment and I sure ain't sleeping over here. Ma, back me up."

Angela nodded sagely. "It's true. I stayed up to make sure he left."

"Gee thanks," Frankie drawled. "We're both adults, y'know. We don't need a babysitter."

"You should respect her; she's like your sister," Jane said, then winced. "No, no, eww." She shook her head to clear it. "I can't think about that."

Frankie groaned—nothing he said was getting through. "There's nothing to think about! We're just going to weird restaurants, watching films where you've gotta read the dialogue, and making sure her turtle gets enough fiber."

"He's a tortoise," Jane said stiffly.

"Turtle, tortoise, whatever. I'm just saying that's all there is."

Frankie waited but Jane refused to look up at him. He thought she muttered something like "Sounds perfect" but that didn't make any sense. Finally she took a breath and marshaled her thoughts.

"Fine. Even if you haven't, y'know, said 'the L-word' yet, you still need to..."

"Speaking of the L-word," Angela murmured.

"...make sure she's OK. That's your job, you're the boyfriend. It's a privilege," Jane said, pointing a finger, "and a responsibility."

Frankie managed to stop himself before he added that it was also a job he didn't remember signing up for. "Actually, that's why I was in the café in the first place. I need to talk to Maura. I-I know she's your BFF and maybe this is gonna get awkward, but I don't think...maybe things aren't going like...I mean..."

Jane was barely breathing as her dark eyes burned into him before she took two abrupt steps closer to tower over him. "Are you trying to say you don't want to date Maura?"

Frankie had been lowering his hands but decided it might be best to keep them up. "Yeah," he admitted. "I just figured that out today and that's why I needed to find her. I'm not trying..."

Jane took a sudden gulping breath and yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you? She's _perfect_! How can you _not_ love her? I'm...I can't believe we're even related."

Frankie looked desperately to his mother and felt a small surge of relief as she put a hand on Jane's shoulder, trying to calm her. "Baby, let's just listen to him."

"No," Jane barked. "W-what the hell are you thinking, Frankie? She's smart, beautiful, talented, and she's incredibly picky but she goes out with you because you saved her life, but no, not really because it's just a _coffee_ machine, not even a real bomb. Y'know, I've saved her life at least five times. Jesus Christ, I shot _myself_ to save your sorry ass, and now it hasn't even been two weeks and you're done with her?"

This wasn't going anything like how he'd hoped it would. He'd been searching for a way to ask Jane's advice, but now he was feeling something completely unexpected—pity. There was something so raw and exposed in her face, a vulnerability he'd never seen in his tough big sister before. Frankie had anticipated that she wouldn't be happy on her friend's behalf, but this just wasn't adding up.

When he had been floating without an official slot in Homicide, Frankie had gone out on a few calls with a hostage negotiator. From what he'd seen, calming the crazy person down had more to do with keeping your voice soft and coaxing as anything about what you actually said. He wasn't sure that was going to help him now, but anything was worth a try.

"You're right," he said calmly. "Maura's a part of us, so I'm not 'done' with her any more than you're done with Tommy just because, y'know, he's being Tommy. I care about her too, and that means doing the right thing. I was coming to the café to explain that it's me, not her. I'm not like Martinez or one of the guys, right?"

Jane hit him again, but by the time he saw it coming it was too late to dodge. It wouldn't have hurt so much if she hadn't already hit him twice in exactly the same spot.

"Ow, crap! Jesus, Janie! If it bothers you so much, why didn't you ask her out yourself?"

A deathly silence fell over the kitchen as their mother slowly closed her eyes.

Jane had frozen with her fist already beginning to cock back again. Her face was a perfectly smooth mask, even more intimidating than her anger because underneath that mask he could see something he never had before—fear.

Frankie felt comprehension begin to trickle over him, starting at the crown of his head and running downward in cold, steady rivulets.

Jane never had time for friends, never let herself get close to anyone outside the family, not until Maura. She didn't have patience for the lab coats and egg heads, but Maura made her laugh like no one else ever had. She would drop anything for Maura, cancel her plans, follow her shopping, just to spend time together. She had looked like she was dying when Maura started to faint, ripping off her own jacket off to make a pillow, and then laughing through her tears when Maura came to with a hazy smile and she whispered Jane's name.

Oh Jesus. How had he ever made detective to have missed this one?

He'd always known Jane was different, in a class by herself. He'd assumed that was why she'd never settled down, because there was no one special enough to catch her eye. She had just been doing what a lot of cops did in settling for what she could get with Casey. Even that half-hearted attempt hadn't worked and he wasn't really sorry about it either, not now. Jane needed someone as special as she was, someone who could fill in all the gaps and scars with the love she deserved—someone like Maura.

"Ma." He let his eyes flicker away from Jane's, finding their mother and pinning her. "We need a minute." Angela's head lowered as her jaw set—she wasn't going anywhere.

"I don't need anything from you." Jane's voice was toneless and defeated, which hurt Frankie more than any of the punches had.

"Yeah, you do." He took a deep breath and braced himself for another blow, quite possibly one aimed at his jaw. He moved forward with half-steps and slid his arms around his sister, gently pulling her in as she began to twitch in protest when she realized what he was doing.

"C'mere," Frankie murmured, and then he refused to let go until she stopped trying to get away. "I'm so sorry—I didn't know," he said as she slumped against him with her chin on his shoulder. "I didn't know. I never would've if I had, I promise, but it's gonna be OK."

"No, it won't." The words were barely a mumble but he felt them in his chest.

"Yeah, it is. You've always looked out for me, sis, but I've got this one." He squeezed even more tightly and felt her start to respond. "I'm gonna take care of this."

Frankie caught his mother's eye and saw that she was holding one hand to her mouth as if to hide her smile while she wiped her eyes with the other. He felt a quiet rush of relief and joy as she came to join them, wrapping her arms around them both, and he knew that he had done something very, very right.

§ § §

Maura fidgeted, restless against the pillows propped behind her back. She had insisted that there was nothing wrong with her and she didn't need a doctor, but Jane hadn't listened to a word she'd said. She'd simply ordered Frankie to drive Maura home along with Angela and then followed separately in her own car. Maura hadn't argued any further but she wished it had been her friend driving her, even if

Jane didn't come to complete full stops when turning right on red.

Maura hadn't mean to worry anyone, but she had a sinking feeling that there would be talk around the department now that every single Rizzoli had taken the afternoon off on her account. They were all clustered in the kitchen downstairs, whispering in fierce undertones while she lay helplessly in bed and tried to pull her scattered thoughts together.

There was a soft tap at the door and she quickly composed herself. "Come in?" she called. To her surprise it was Frankie's head that poked around the door.

"Hey," he said cautiously "How're you feeling?"

"Better," she said, then added, "and embarrassed."

"Don't be," Frankie said. His voice was calm and reassuring, something her nerves badly needed after the incident in the café. So much of it was still disjointed, but there was no ignoring her body's choice as it fell towards Jane and not Frankie. Frankie was safe and reliable, but it was Jane she relied on; Jane was the one who would save her. But it was almost too confusing an even for herself to understand, much less trying to explain it to them.

Frankie looked around, then gestured questioningly at the chair in the corner of her bedroom. Maura nodded and he pulled it up to the bedside. "Are you good to talk for a minute?"

"I'm fine, Frankie, I promise. I'm a doctor."

He grinned at her in that slightly lop-sided, rueful way. It made her feel warm inside, as if they were sharing a joke, but it wasn't quite the same as when Jane looked at her. They had the same thick dark hair, the same deep brown eyes, but...it wasn't the same.

_You know why, _her mind informed her calmly. _But what can you do about it now without ruining everything? Without losing this family?_

"You're a dead-people doctor," Frankie reminded her. "It doesn't count unless you're dead."

"I was able to save you," she said hopefully.

"Yeah, you did." He nodded and the grin broadened.. "Thank you, by the way, if I haven't said that yet today."

"You don't have to thank me." She would have done everything she could to help Frankie even if they had never met before the moment he'd been shot. Still, it had been Jane pleading with her to save her little brother that had galvanized her to nearly unacceptable creativity where medical procedures were concerned. She had never been one to take risks or bend rules, not before meeting Jane. But then, she thought wryly, her life hadn't been much different than one of her corpses, had it? Not until Jane.

"I know you spend a lot of time with Ma and she loves to tell embarrassing stories, but I think I need to tell you a little about what it was like for me and Jane. OK?"

Maura nodded, wrenching herself out of the unexpected surge of self-pity. She had made such a mess of things, but at the least she could let Frankie talk.

"Jane could've had it rough being the oldest and a girl, but she was just so good at everything, even being a sister. She always let me tag along and she never tried to get rid of me. She let me play on her stickball team and she taught me how to shoot hoops and skate backwards, and she always split ice cream cones with me. She was the best big sister you could ask for."

"She loves you very much, Frankie."

He smiled to himself and gave a little shrug. "She doesn't know it, but she's the one who made me want to be a detective back when we were just kids. When it was bad weather out and we had to stay in, she did jigsaw puzzles with me, but she gave me the tough parts like the sky. That was my first lesson because, y'know, it's not always blue, so you can't assume. You have to look at all the details and keep trying until you solve it."

Maura felt the small knot in the pit of her stomach turn and twist. She'd made an assumption herself, she saw that now, and that was unforgivable for a scientist. She cared for them both in similar ways, but the differences were critical...and how in the world was she going to explain that without hurting both of them any more than she already had?

"I'm not supposed to know," Frankie said, "but Jane talked to Pop when I wanted to quit plumbing and go to the Academy. She didn't cut any corners for me, but she was always there for me. I know it's annoying when people kid her about her tagalong and they call me Other Rizzoli."

"No," Maura protested, "that's not true." He looked at her dubiously until she subsided. "Perhaps at first," she conceded. "But I know she's actually a little proud when people confuse you."

"Yeah, well, I think I got a little confused myself. I wanted to be just like her and she has you, so I thought maybe...?" His tone was questioning and a little self-deprecating. "But I think I got it all turned around."

Maura was feeling that way herself. She could see that he was trying to tell her something, but she'd never been good at reading between the lines, especially where people were concerned. "I'm sorry," she said. "Did you not want to date? But you kissed me."

"Yeah, about that," he said hesitantly. "I think...man, this is awkward." Frankie cleared his throat, framing himself. "That night we ran into each other, I'd taken a couple Percocets after you stitched me up and I think they hit me a lot harder than I realized. Yeah, the impulse was there—I mean, have you looked at yourself?—but it was the drugs talking. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

Maura quickly ran through the potential side effects and interactions of opioid analgesics and concluded that this could potentially explain his out of character behavior.

"What I'm trying to say is that you've always been there for me, Maura, for all of us. You took Ma in when Pop left. You gave Tommy somewhere to crash and a second chance. You took care of TJ when Lydia dropped him off on the doorstep. You helped me pass the detective's exam and I felt like you really believed in me. You don't know what that means to a guy."

No, Maura realized, she hadn't understood until he began to tally things up like that. The slight glistening in his eyes and the catch in his voice said it all too clearly.

"What I see now is that all this time you've been like my even smarter, prettier, nicer big sister, and that's the most important relationship we could ever have. You're family, Maura. That's what we are."

Frankie was looking at her with his head dipped slightly, glancing up through his thick dark lashes. Maura had been sitting perfectly still as he talked, first to let him finish his thoughts and then because she was simply stunned. Before Maura understood what she was doing, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Neither of them moved, each as startled as the other. As she slowly opened her eyes, Maura realized that the skin under her lips was smooth and soft, not the slight stubble she had expected.

His forehead.

Of its own accord, her body had impulsively kissed his forehead and, she thought carefully, it felt wonderful. It was warm, protective, and the perfect expression of the affection, loyalty and respect she felt for him. Maura knew that she did in fact have a brother, dead before they had ever met, but she felt nothing for that man other than an intellectual curiosity. Frankie Rizzoli was a part of her life, one of the few people she could trust, and he was more of a brother to her than her own brother ever could have been.

Her head came to rest against his shoulder and they sat together quietly or a long minute before he said, "I love you, sis." She nodded and he pulled back, allowing her the space to sit up and wipe her cheeks which had somehow grown damp through she felt happier and more at peace than she could ever recall.

"I love you too, Frankie."

"But I still say you're crazy for wanting to sign on with us," he grinned.

"Well, genius has often been mistaken for insanity," she said hopefully. "That's what Jane would say."

"Speaking of other women." Frankie stood up, squaring his shoulders with exaggerated effort. "Don't take this the wrong way, but there's a girl who has a pair of Sox tickets on the 3rd base line and I can still make the first pitch if I hurry. But only if you're OK with this."

The whirling kaleidoscope of emotion inside Maura tumbled, clicked and settled on hope. "That's wonderful, Frankie. Please, yes—go, and have a great time."

He nodded, looking as relaxed and relieved as she felt inside. "And look, I don't wanna be out of line, but Jane's stalking around the kitchen, worried sick about you and I think she's gonna start pulling doors off hinges if you don't let her come up. I could be wrong, but I think there's some stuff you want to say to her maybe?"

As Maura nodded, she felt the last of her uncertainty drop away. Everything she had thought she understood had turned on its head, like a negative image whose polarity had finally reversed and she saw what had been in front of her the whole time. Patient, devoted, smart, sarcastic, loyal, funny, utterly gorgeous Jane who wanted nothing more than for her to be happy, even if it meant stepping aside for someone else.

Her Jane.

"Yes," she said. "I'm ready."

* * *

One more chapter and an epilogue to go...

Did I mention this is all speakers77's fault? No, seriously-there was a concerted 7+ month campaign to get me to do this story. She's sneaky and persistent!


	5. Conclusions

Thanks again to everyone for the wonderful response this story has received, but most of all to speakers77 for the original impetus and encouragement and also to siDEADde for the beta support (more like alpha support at times).

* * *

Jane stood at the foot of the stairs leading up to Maura's bedroom on the second floor. In the lens of her mind they seemed to telescope and extend to half a football field long as she stared up their length. She held a mug of coffee in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. She didn't really know which Maura wanted, but her mother had made both just in case. It was what mothers did when they were worried—they cooked, they cleaned, they lied and said they had errands they needed to run right that second, and then they left you in the house with your best friend, the one person you wanted to be with more than any other.

The one person you couldn't have.

A few minutes ago, Frankie had come down the same stairs after going up to talk to Maura. He'd cut her off before she could ask what they'd talked about, simply saying, "It's 3 o'clock, I gotta go. Everything's settled and Maura's fine."

"In just fifteen minutes?" she had retorted. "It takes her at least eight to say, 'Hello, how are you?'"

Frankie had just grinned and spun his car keys around his index finger like Roy Rogers with a pistol. "Guess you need a little practice figuring out what she's saying between the lines. Turns out I'm not her type either so everything's good. Now get up there and talk to her before I have to arrest the both of you for public stupidity."

When Jane finally made it to bedroom one slow step at a time, she realized she needed an extra hand to actually open the door. At least it would match her extra foot, she thought grimly, the one she kept shoving into her own mouth. Carefully she tapped the door with one toe and waited for Maura to invite her in, then elbowed the handle.

Maura sat propped up in bed with the entire Pier One pillow collection stuffed behind her. "Is everything all right?"

Too late Jane realized she was staring, but not just at the pillows. She just couldn't help herself. She'd managed to avoid being alone with Maura for nearly two weeks, out of respect for her and Frankie, but mostly because she didn't trust herself not to do something truly stupid. Seeing Maura again was like food when you were starving or a water fountain in the Sahara...oxygen. Finally she could breathe again.

"Jane?"

_I...um... _"What? Oh, here—drink." _Jesus!_ "I got coffee and tea." She lifted each in turn.

"Tea please, thank you."

Jane set both down on the nightstand with the teacup closer to Maura. "Ma made it, so you know it's safe. Are you feeling better?"

The afternoon light in the bedroom was dimmed as it came through gauzy muslin curtains, the ones she'd helped Maura hang last spring. Actually, she'd done all the actual hanging with her long arms as Maura perched on the edge of the bed, legs crossed in those knee-high black leather boots, and made suggestions while Jane tried to ignore the suggestions her own subconscious was making.

She pushed back the curtains by a foot to let more light in, and she was pleased to see that Maura's complexion had returned to a healthy glow, at least compared to most medical examiners.

Maura sipped her tea, then sighed and smiled. "Thank you. I'm sorry for worrying everyone—there's nothing wrong with me."

_Of course not,_ Jane thought helplessly. _You're perfect. _"Yeah, sure, you just fainted at work, so why would we worry? Hey, at least you have enough sick leave built up to get bubonic plague and still have some left over."  
"If I contracted bubonic plague, I think the CDC would compensate the department just to study me. And besides," Maura informed her seriously, "the plague had been effectively contained."

"Are you sure?"

Maura nodded in the off-hand, self-assured way she did when she was absolutely positive of something. "I looked it up after you told me you thought you'd caught it from my homemade Greek yogurt."

Jane barely suppressed a shudder at the memory. Maura had been so pleased with herself, something about probiotic benefits, and all she could wonder was what the odds were of Jo Friday getting really sick if she let her have the dish under the table.

"Please sit down," Maura said. "You're making me nervous." Her voice was soft but certain. She had slid over to set her tea on the opposite nightstand and left more than enough room for Jane to sit beside her on the bed.

"Actually, I've gotta get going back to work, but I can come back later, maybe bring dinner?"

That was what Jane had meant to say, but her jaw had frozen at the sight of Maura tugging back the covers and patting the bed, coaxing her to come sit down, just for a minute. But this wasn't so unusual for them, Jane rationalized. How many nights did they curl up on the couch, watching movies and talking until she could forget about work and had a chance at a peaceful night's sleep? She had tried to tell herself that the nightmares of the last two weeks were just the occasional stress that came with a case and had nothing to do with not having Maura to help calm her. She needed to get used to it—if Maura found someone to date, this was what it was going to be like from then on without her.

"OK," she said as casually as she could. "I can stay for a little."

"Could you take your shoes off?"

Jane tried to remember to breathe. There were a half-dozen daydream scenarios in which Maura made suggestions like that, usually followed by "_Now take off your shirt, detective"._

Maura was smiling sheepishly and her dimple had crept out. "I just had the duvet dry cleaned."

Jane kicked her shoes off and the socks came with them, then lined them up at the edge of the bed, the way she imagined Maura would. Clambering in, she stretched her legs out as Maura flipped the covers over them both and did a surprisingly effective one-handed tuck in. The sheets were smooth and cool to the touch, and she didn't want to know how much they'd cost. Maura probably still had the receipt in a labeled folder somewhere. Jane took a deep breath, trying to identify the familiar scent, probably something from the dozens of brightly colored bottles lining the shelves of the master bath.

"It's lavender," Maura said without being asked. She had finished her tea and was curling against her now, Jane realized. She wasn't even sure how it had happened, but her arm which had been stretched out over the bank of pillows had slid down around Maura who was nestling in the crook of her shoulder. "I always liked it on you."

Jane had no idea what to say to that and Maura didn't seem to be looking for an answer.

"So," Jane said cautiously, "is everything OK? I mean, is it going to be awkward with us all getting together now that you broke things off with Frankie?"

Maura shook her head and the soft waves of her hair tickled Jane's neck. "No, not at all. We both realized that things weren't going to work out and made a mutual decision. In fact, he's on his way to meet someone and go to a baseball game. Obviously, not something we would have enjoyed together."

Jane felt a strange mixture of confusion and the hot, prickly sensation that she'd always thought of as jealousy. "But we went to Opening Day last year," she said. "You said you had a great time."

Maura made a curious little humming noise. "I did," she agreed. "But the circumstances were different and that affected the outcome. I had a good time because I was with you. That was what mattered." Maura's hand was on her forearm, gently stroking, which had the exact opposite effect to calming her down. "Relationships aren't one size fits all."

"Yeah, you'd never wear anything off the rack," Jane mumbled, and she felt Maura laugh against her. God, she'd missed this.

"Well, not that your brother is generic by any means—I happen to think all the Rizzolis are very special—but yes."

Jane felt slightly better and made a resolution to call Frankie later and thank him for fixing things as he'd promised. She'd dodged a bullet with Casey and now Maura was free to spend time again, and they could go back to how things had been. This was more than most people ever got, just to have someone like Maura for a friend even if she couldn't ask for more.

"There is something we should talk about though. Frankie told me an interesting story about when you were little kids and it helped me understand something."

"Don't believe him," Jane said automatically. "There was nothing posted at that pond and he's the one who said he didn't need a swimsuit."

Maura was squirming to sit up and Jane held still, willing her heart to stop doing jumping jacks at the sensation of the friction between their bodies. "He told me you let him help you do jigsaw puzzles on rainy days after school, but you always made him do the sky."

Jane couldn't help smiling at the memory of Frankie sitting on his knees in a kitchen chair so he could see the table top. He would spread out all the blue pieces in front of him and pick them up in his clumsy fingers while she deftly sorted out the edge pieces.

"He told me that you taught him to always keep trying until he found the answer. He said that's what made him want to be a detective."

"Yeah," Jane said quietly. "He was a really good kid." She might have talked tough when Frankie said he wanted to be a cop, but she had never been so proud, not even when she'd made detective herself.

"It made me realize something." Maura's voice was more serious now as she looked steadily at Jane. "Sometimes the sky isn't always blue. It can be black at night, or yellow and pink at sunrise, or purple and orange at dusk, but it's all sky. Just because the piece doesn't look like what you expect doesn't mean it doesn't fit."

Jane felt her breathing going shallow. "Well...uh, yeah."

"In some ways that explains how I feel about your family," Maura continued earnestly. "There's always been something missing inside me, Jane. I've managed to cope and to put other things in its place, but when I met you I couldn't ignore it anymore. Even though I have literally nothing in common with your family, I've always felt like I belonged with them. My other families took care of me, they gave me life and learning, but they didn't love me." Her voice had dropped to a whisper. "Not like I need."

"We do," Jane insisted. "We love you, ba...swee...Maur." _I love you._

"Did you know there are four words in Greek for aspects of love?"

Of all the things she had thought Maura was going to say, that wasn't one of them.

"Y'know, I was gonna take Greek but they had an opening in Woodworking, and you know how I love a birdhouse."

Maura's eyes narrowed slightly as if she sensed a challenge, and she raised four fingers to count off. "First is _storge_, the parental affection I feel for your mother. There's _philia_, a friendly attachment like what I feel for Tommy, though not when he's committing a crime. Then there's _agape_, which has complex spiritual overtones and I think that's what I feel for your family as a whole." Maura paused, her forehead furrowing slightly. "I thought at first that what I felt for Frankie could be the fourth kind. I tried, but it didn't fit for either of us. It shows you how much he cares about me that he spoke up instead of letting things limp along."

"And, uh, what's the fourth kind?"

"I could explain it," Maura said simply, "but it would be easier to simply show you."

For as long as Jane could remember there had been something hesitant but hopeful in Maura's expression whenever she was invited over to a family event. She was fascinated by them, drawn in but mindful that she wasn't one of them, not by birth and blood. She would smile and be helpful, grateful, even shy in hopes that she would be asked again.

That Maura was nowhere to be seen now. In her place was a woman who finally realized what she needed, and she wasn't going to let it slip away.

"Sure," Jane said unsteadily. "That'll work."

She was too startled to jerk away as Maura pressed an open palm against her cheek. "Trust me?" she whispered.

Jane nodded. _Of course. Always. Forever._

Every possible response was blown away in the emotional explosion rocketing through her as Maura's lips found hers. It began tenderly, as a gentle exploration, and grew rapidly as Jane sank into the kiss, pulling Maura with her. She felt fingers tracing her cheekbones, then skimming over the line of her jaw as lightly as an artist's brush before those fingers slipped and sank into her hair. No other kiss could remotely compare to how she felt now—dizzy, elated, stunned and satisfied all at once. She had tried to convince herself it was enough to be near Maura, to sit at the table and see the food but never taste, and to watch others eat when she was so hungry. But she wasn't hungry—she was starving: they both were.

After what felt like minutes a steady pulsing alert began to penetrate the pleasant haze that had settled over her brain. It was the internal warning she got during an interview when something wasn't quite right but she wasn't sure yet what it was. Jane pulled her consciousness out of the moment and raggedly took stock of herself. Somehow what had started gently had turned into something far more aggressive as she had taken control. One of her hands had somehow found its way to Maura's back and what she had thought was the silk fabric of her pajamas was actually smooth skin beneath the shirt top.

With aching reluctance, eyes turned down and away, Jane forced herself to pull back and gingerly slide off Maura. But how many times had she woken up from exactly this dream of Maura's face buried against her neck, that amazing body squirming and arching beneath her own, only to find that all she was holding was the extra pillow?

"So what's the Greek word for that?" she asked shakily.

"_Eros_." Maura risked another kiss, light on bruised lips. "Or _chemistry_ in modern terms." Her hand slipped to Jane's throat to find the pounding pulse there "What are you thinking?"

"Look." Jane took Maura's hand, moving it back a safe distance before she pressed their palms together, measuring their fingers. Maura pressed back, surprisingly strong, and then shifted so their fingers interlocked and clasped. "You should take some time." _Please don't change your mind, please don't. I couldn't survive._

"I don't need time, Jane. This is all I've wanted ever since we met and..." Maura's other hand had crept up, fingers brushing Jane's lips to quiet her. "No, listen. I met you and I knew we belonged together, but I didn't understand how. I knew I loved you, I just didn't know the right word. I thought we were like sisters, but I don't think this is how I'm supposed to feel towards my sister."

"Ah, no," Jane agreed. Her grin was unsteady with relief and elation. She couldn't help letting her lips close on those fingertips, drawing one in and letting her teeth graze the tip. Seeing Maura's eyes close and feeling the fluttering sigh that ran through her sent an answering jolt to Jane's stomach. When Maura recovered her breath, she blinked up at Jane in frank curiosity.

"Perhaps there's some merit to the fairy tale tradition of kissing frogs."

"Um, excuse me?"

Nothing in Maura's expression seemed to be joking. "If I'd just kissed you when we met, think about all the time we could have saved. We could be years into our future already."

Future? Jane thought. _Our future? _She was already dazed enough. Maura Isles was worried that they'd lost time, so that meant she wanted more. She wanted to fit and to belong, and she did...she belonged to Jane. _No, no...__**with**__ me, not to me. Geez, what are you, a caveman?_ But one look at Maura lying in her arms with her lips parted and cheeks flushed shoved every modern, respectful, chivalrous belief temporarily out of her head.

_Mine. Mine. All mine._

Maura touched her face, gently bringing her back. "I'm so sorry, Jane. All that time, I should have seen. Any scientist should know better than to go into a situation with a preconceived notion of what the outcome would be like despite the actual evidence. It's a classic mistake."

Jane let their foreheads rest together, breathing in deeply. "I wasn't helping any. I tried to bury everything, and then Casey turned up. I just wanted _something_ to work, anything, and I thought maybe if I tried hard enough..." She gave a helpless shrug.

Maura was listening gravely, the way she always did. "I think we've both been thinking too much instead of feeling."

"Whoa, emotion? You sure you didn't hit your head when you fell down?" Jane teased.

Maura smiled, coy and inviting now. "It means perhaps we should conduct another experiment to replicate our results."

Jane was kissing her almost before she could finish the sentence, and for a long blissful minute nothing else existed as they burrowed further beneath the blankets. Finally muzzy and pleasantly disoriented, Jane came up for air while Maura remained pressed against her, nuzzling her neck.

"You should be careful," Jane said thickly. "One more kiss like that and neither one of us is getting back to work today."

Maura smiled, bright and delighted, as if this had been the plan all along. Perhaps it had been, knowing her. "Would that be so bad?"

The sheer relief rushing through Jane was making her light-headed and she found herself having to choke back laughter.

"What's so funny?"

"Sorry, I just never thought about what it would be like to, y'know, play doctor," Jane said awkwardly. "With a doctor."

Maura let out a small sigh. "I've never understood that expression. Why would anyone want to pretend to be a doctor when you could really _be_ one?"

"I dunno," Jane grinned. "Don't knock it 'til you've tried it." She raised Maura's wrist to her lips, gently kissing the jumping pulse. "Hmm." She nodded in mock concern as she slowly undid the top two pajama buttons and slipped her hand inside. Her palm lay flat against Maura's chest, as much as it could all things considered. "Seem to have some irregularities."

Maura's eyes had closed as she lay back beneath Jane's touch. "When you're...near me." The words verged on breathless.

"Should probably get that checked," Jane agreed as she investigated the slope of Maura's neck. After a long suckling kiss, she pulled back and instantly felt a pang of guilt. "Do you, um, have any turtlenecks you haven't packed up?"

"I'll buy one," Maura gasped. Her fingers were digging into Jane's shoulders, trying to pull her back for another kiss but Jane managed to deflect her.

"Maybe that's good for now," she said hesitantly. "You should think about how far you want this experiment to go." _So I don't get my hopes up too much? So I don't let my heart go completely? Because you could break me with a word._

At that Maura broke into the loveliest, tenderest smile she had ever seen. "You're not an experiment, Jane," she said simply. "You're the conclusion."

Finally, with those words, Jane believed her. Maura couldn't lie, she simply couldn't, and she certainly wasn't going to lie about science.

"OK, Dr. Isles," Jane grinned. "I guess it took us long enough to get an appointment, I'm all yours." _I always have been._

Suddenly and without warning, Jane found their positions forcibly reversed on the bed which was just fine with her as she'd had at least two daydreams along these lines. The fantasy came to a halt halfway through the unbuttoning of her shirt.

"Now, "Maura was saying, "have you had regular checkups? That's very important for preventative care. Did you know it's more effective to perform monthly breast exams with the assistance of a partner?"

"Uh...y'know, we don't have to be so literal about it," Jane said nervously. "I mean, look, if we're doing histories here, I should warn you that it can take me a while to get comfortable, so just don't get your expectations..." Jane trailed off as she felt herself start to blush.

Maura's fingers had reached the waistband of her slacks and were tracing maddening patterns on her skin. "Is that a challenge?"

"I just mean it can take mean it can take a while for me to sync up and sometimes I don't...I mean..._God_," she hissed.

Maura had placed a warm, lingering kiss just below her navel as she sprang the clasp on Jane's belt. "Then I'm glad you came to me for a second opinion," she said seriously. Jane's eyes slammed shut as the zipper began to inch downwards. "Trust me," was the last thing she remembered coherently. "I'm a professional."

* * *

Epilogue to follow soon...


	6. Publish Results

**Epilogue-some years later**

Joe: Welcome back, Red Sox Nation, this is Joe Castiglione with Dave O'Brien and Lou Merloni tonight, and we're here in the bottom of the 8th in Game 5 of the World Series after a disappointing loss in Game 4. The Sox had been hoping to sweep, but this gives them the chance to win at home and make the city of Boston very happy tonight.

Dave: The local support has just been overwhelming which is saying something for Boston, a city that loves its sports. BPD has turned out in force in anticipation of a celebration tonight, but they're finding still time to cheer too.

Lou: We also have some officers not in uniform tonight, and it looks like family night there behind home plate. Acting BPD Chief Sean Cavanaugh with his wife Angela are here, as well as son, Det. Frankie Rizzoli and his wife, Off. Charlotte Rizzoli. I think all Sox fans will remember them for having had their first kiss captured here a few years ago on the Kiss Cam and then they followed up at the last home game that season with a public proposal.

Dave: Happy to say we helped out with that one during the 7th inning stretch.

Joe: That was the only call I got right all day! And beside them, there's Tommy Rizzoli and his wife Lydia, the unlikely heroes of the Second Polar Vortex.

Lou: That's right, Joe. Boston won't soon forget how it was a small local plumbing firm that managed to keep services running to Red Cross Shelters when the Big Re-Freeze hit two years ago. They're not so small or local anymore though—they have offices open now all over Massachusetts and the tri-state area.

Dave: And finally on the end, there's daughter Det. Jane Rizzoli-Isles with her wife, Dr. Maura Rizzoli-Isles, the chief medical examiner.

Lou: Dr. Rizzoli-Isles has been in national news lately as the pioneer of the Placebo Protocol that's revolutionizing cold case analysis and helping close unsolved cases in record numbers.

Dave: But with the number of kids running around their row, it looks like she might be doing research in the fertility field as well!

Joe: I know, Dave—with so many kids it's hard to tell who belongs to who and it looks like there's more on the way, but they're definitely all Red Sox fans with their jerseys and hats, so that's a family with the right priorities.

Dave: If the Sox are looking to the future, they'd do well to start recruiting Rizzolis now. They should be able to field an entire starting lineup in another season or two.

Lou: Looks like we're not the only ones who've noticed this group. You can't see it on the radio, but the Kiss Cam is zooming in and going for a triple—no, a _quadruple_ play. I don't know if our mics are picking it up, but the stadium is going crazy at this on the Jumbotron. You'd think someone just hit a home run.

Joe: Someone needs to tell Dr. Rizzoli-Isles that it's someone else's turn for the camera now.

Dave: Well, I'm not sure anyone here tonight agrees with you, Joe. If the Sox had made moves like that on Wednesday, then we wouldn't be here in Game 5 now.

Joe: Well, I don't think we have anything to worry about as the Sox are taking the field now with a four run lead, and neither does Boston with the Rizzolis on call. The city's future is in good hands.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for coming along for this experiment - all chapter titles are steps in the scientific method of inquiry. And lest there be any confusion, this story was all speakers77's fault. :-)


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